
Class ^1*2 2SA1 

Book _^ Jf24 tP^i^ 



()OByiiglitl^"_.iqOZ 



COPYRIGHT DEPOSIT, 



Pen Lyrics 

Only sixty copies of this book have been 
printed, of which this is number 



PEN LYRICS 



BY 



F. STRANGE KOLLE 




THE GRAFTON PRESS 

NEW YORK 

1902 



THE LIBRARY OF 
CONGRESS, 

Two Copies Received 

JAN 21 1903 

^.Copyright Entry 
cuss A'* ^^ No. 



COPY B. 



P535al 



\'\(>% 



COPYRIGHT 1902 BY 
F. STRANGE KOLLE 



^'Nulla Dies Sine Linea. 



CONTENTS. 

When New York Sleeps 9 

New Year's Song to Labor . . . . . . 11 

Roy's Letter 11 

Awakening 14 

My Ideal Day ^15 

One Year Ago To-day 16 

Her Garden 19 

The Playwright 21 

To Dollie 22 

Her Voice 23 

In Loveland 24 

I Love You So 25 

I?— 'Tis I! 26 

The Rose 31 

To My Pipe 32 

The Phantom Ship 34 

Shipmates 36 

Hope 38 

Constancy 39 

Consolation 40 

Victory 41 

A Mother s Prayer 42 

A Child's Idea of Heaven 43 

The Radicalist 45 

A Prodigy 46 

To Nansen . 47 

The Grave of Caesar 49 



South Lake 51 

The Delaware from Barryville Bluff ... 54 

Good Night 55 

Beaver Brook 56 

Shohola Mill 57 

Vesuvius 59 

What of the Day, Dear Lord? 62 

Accidental Death 63 

Come, Walk With Me 64 

The Song of the Christians 65 

Summa Osculum 66 

Magnus Deus 67 

The Day Omnipotent 68 

Mystic Death 70 

The Black Man's Burden 71 

When Last of All 72 

When I Loaf . 73 

Niagara 74 

Despair 75 

Captain Tommy 77 

Sympathy for the Moon 79 

Mamma's Lullaby 81 

Wud's De Good of a Baby.^ 82 

The Sun 83 

Ef Only I Wuz a Boy! 84 

When Santa Claus Used to Wuz I .... 85 

Wibby, Diddy and Doo 87 

The Scissors 88 

Dost Know, Dear Heart? 89 



WHEN NEW YORK SLEEPS. 

Ten thousand smouldering fires lie low, 
Playing with shadows gaunt and great, 

Borne from the depths of an ember glow — 
The spirits of their burnt-out fate, 
When New York sleeps. 

A million men with hardened hands 
Rest from the dead day's weary toil, 

To reap the peace that night commands. 
Away from labor-life's turmoil. 
When New York sleeps. 

The clang, the din, the song of wheels. 
The clamor of its peopled streets, 

Pades dim, with trembling hollow peals 
Of timing bell, that day completes. 
When New York sleeps. 



But from the shadows of the night 
Emerge the forms of quean souls, 

In perfumed gown, dark-masked in bright. 
To charm, to sting, the world's vain fools. 
When New York sleeps. 

In reeking den, the greedy host 
Controls the minds of bibing men 

That once of wealth, of name, could boast, 
And all the world so rosy then — 
When New York sleeps. 

And mothers pray, in deep distress, 

Beside a dreaming child, 
Unconscious of the sad caress 

Of a heart with anguish wild. 

When New York sleeps. 

But in the heav'ns light-flooded height 

A Judge Supreme rules still. 
That guides the fleeing spirit's flight 

With right's unerring will. 

When New York sleeps. 



10 



NEW YEAR'S SONG TO LABOR. 
1899. 

Men, can you sleep this moment through? 

Hear! hear the gladsome news! 
A dronef ul year is dead to you, 

The new brings brighter views! 

Let not the melancholy past 

Bedumb your hardened ears ; 
Say not some other was the last, 

The happiest of all years. 

Cry not, your day is growing long, 
Since work and home grew poor. 

But hearken to the joyous song 
That rings from dome to door. 

E'en tho' each note throb your worn heart, 

Calls forth hot tears of pain ; 
God, from the wretched ne'er will part. 

And sends you joy again. 



11 



Past life is dead ! 'Tis future now, 
And those who sowed in sorrow 

Take up, once more, hope's shattered plow, 
To reap bright gains to-morrow. 



12 



ROY'S LETTER. 

Dear Pote: 

You ast me for a ortergraf , 

Well, hear it is ; 
Hear also is me fortograf. 

What beslonged onct to Liz. 

Ime gone on six, 

In the fifth primry grade, 
And do all tricks 

Whats ever played. 

When you git sum time agen, 
I will come, if you don't mind. 

And lissen to you reedin' when 
Ime not kept behind. 

Say, reed about that Fairy song. 
Cheese it, heers me teacher. 

So I muss clos and say so long. 
Your boy frend. Royal Beecher. 



13 



AWAKENING. 

O soft, O low, 
Across the silvery crest 
Of winter's icy breast 
Spring's nascent breezes blow, 

So soft^ so low! 

O dear, O sweet, 
Its spirit fingers press 
Each bud's young verdant dress ; 
Thus all the earth to greet, 

So dear, so sweet ! 



14 



MY IDEAL DAY. 

My day awakes, when gently rise 
Thy dreamy Kds to sifting skies ; 
When all the gloom that night has known 
Fades fast, and leaves but day alone. 

My sun arises in the wiles 
That beam forth from thy merry smiles; 
The sunshine warmth in them abounds. 
Quick colors all that love surround^s. 

V 

Then twilight steals with whispered thrill 

Upon me, and, reluctant still. 

Lingers within thy silver tone 

The gloaming's roseate tinted zone. 

My night is born of ecstasy and bliss. 
With thy caress and priceless loving kiss, 
While unseen zephyrs lull my soul to sweet 
Dreaming of Thee, to make my day complete. 



15 



ONE YEAR AGO TO-DAY. 

O do you not remember, one year ago to-day, 

We wandered thro' the sunny field, Uke children 
gone to play ; 

How all the earth was calm and green, and song- 
birds filled the air. 

Whose music throbbed so sweetly — there never 
seemed more fair. 

How golden rods bowed lowly, laying gilt stars 

at our feet, 
And the wild-rose lent its pale, pink glow, to 

make the charm complete; 
How the hillside slope invited, both to linger and 

sit down 
Among the shrub of yellow wheat, that had lost 

its tasseled crown. 

And in the stony meadow, a red poppy showed 

its head. 
As if to shame the sun's rich glow, that warmed 

its earthy bed; 
And how the dark-hued oaks, that grew far down 

the hill below 
Threw wide their leafy shadow upon a brook's 

cool flow. 

16 



How a robin darted to and fro, with plump and 

ruddy breast. 
As if to call us to admire the birdling in her 

nest ; 
The little squirrel that chirped and gazed with 

peaked little eyes. 
Rushed to his lair and out again, to show his 

tame surprise. 

And how the blue jay spied us and gave a startled 

cry, 
As if we came to end his day and he indeed must 

die. 
Perhaps he did not understand our lingering 

visit there. 
Or did he vie the gilded-tinge, waved glory of 

your hair.'* 

And then a cool breath from the hill, crept down 

into the vale. 
Just soft enough to bend the flower — the velvet 

wild-rose pale. 
We seemed to hear it whisper, like strains from 

God's spirit lute. 
While our throbbing hearts took up the song, 

tho' our lips were closed and mute. 



17 



But when your eyes glanced into mine, I never 
can forget, 

I felt, altho' we did not speak, our souls in love 
had met. 

And then we went back to the world, with new- 
born hearts and gay, 

To sing the song forever that was taught us on 
that day. 

—To L. E. K. 



18 



HER GARDEN. 

A thousand times I passed your garden by, 
And lived ten thousand times the moment's life 
anew. 
Although with night each floweret bade me sigh 
The whisper of the long unspoken love for 
you. 

How often, O how often, could I fancy you 
alone. 
Among the multicolored beds below thee. 
Whilst wildly bright or mellow pale God's orbs 
above them shone. 
To kiss the paths that soft and gentle know 
thee. 

And though I never hear it, I know your whisper 
sings 
To every blossom, leaf and bud within the gar- 
den there; 
And that in every happy mood your laughter 
o'er it rings. 
To make complete the paradise, the fairest of 
the fair. 



19 



Ah, then, my Sweet, do you recall the loitering 
one, 
Who humbly plucked the fairest flower within 
its bower — 
Unknowing dared, unknowing met thee and 'twas 
done — 
You loved me, as I ever have, but for one sin- 
gle hour. 



20 



THE PLAYWRIGHT. 

Perfumed mass of radiant faces, 
Glittering throng of many races. 
Crowding hurriedly to places 
Barren of all saddened traces, 
At the shrine of Thespia — 
Eager eyes that scan the actor, 
Leading man and foremost factor; 
WilKng hands that loud applaud, 
Willing tongues that highly laud 
Ev'ry change of scene; 
Voices raised in one accord. 
Crying praise high heavenward. 
Crowning with laurel and with fame, 
Owner of an actor's name — 
Nobly so ordained. 
Has, amidst this glad confusion. 
Deftly colored illusion. 
One faint whisper ever asked, 
"In whose sunshine had they basked, 
The playwright, or his name?'' 



21 



TO "DOLLIE." 

Sacred grave, how sad my fancy 
That some day, alone I'll sleep 
In a mossy mound, far from thee, 
Where no rosebuds vigil keep. 



22 



HER VOICE. 

Hast ever heard the nightingale 

The wonders of the night invoke? 
Hast ever heard in meadowed vale 

The lark, when gray the dawn awoke ? 
Hast ever heard the violet sigh 

Its fragrant, soft good-night. 
Or, waking lily-bells near by 

Ring forth day's sunny light? 
Hast ever heard a brooklet splash 

In th' moon's pale phosphorent glow. 
Or, when a playful sunbeam flash 

Entranced its gladdened flow ? 
Hast heard the breeze break on the reef 

Of verdure, rich and new. 
When, aspen-like, each, every leaf. 

Greets God, the day and you? 
Hast heard Aeolus rend the air 

With mighty main and force — 
Enwrapt, divined its awful blare 

As part of God's discourse? 
Hast ever dreamed, Mercurian lyre. 

Called forth thy soul to sing? 
Hasfc marked its sacred, thrilling fire. 

Borne, as on God-like wing? 
Then hast thou known of music choice. 

For thou hast heard Her voice. 
23 



IN LOVELAND. 

Where lies the Aiden vale ideal, 

Its flowered bosom sweet; 
Where rings the blue-bells joyous peal, 

Immortal loves to meet. 

Where lie its golden-bordered shore, 
Where laps its turquoise sea ; 

Where play the zephyrs of Amor 
In fragrant, flowering tree. 

Where drifts the violet breath of night, 
Where smiles the sun alway; 

Where Luna pale, from zenith's height. 
Calls forth the stars to play. 

Where sing the birds with constant glee. 

In morn's effulgent gleam ; 
Where lisps the rippling brooklet free. 

Invites the soul to dream. 

Where sleeps the silv'ry silent lake. 
On reed and rush-grown strands. 

Where gondols to harp-music wake — 
Guided by unseen hands. 

Where trembling breezes meet to kiss, 

One to the other free, 
Where life is day's eternal bliss — 

There, would I be, with Thee. 
24 



I LOVE YOU SO. 

When smile meets tenderly with smile, 
When heart meets heart unveiled of guile, 
And all the world is gay and glad, 
My heart sighs, lonely, soft and sad 
To whisper dear, that throb and sing; 
That changeless thro' my life will ring, 
"I love you so ! I love you so !" 



25 



I?— 'TIS I! 

One day weary of the chatter 
Of all busy worldly clatter. 

To the forest's silent shade 

I made my saddened way. 
'Twas in glorious autumn weather 
When the fallen leaves together. 

Covered Mother Earth and made 

A carpet rife with colors gay. 

When the evening winds sighed lowly, 
Through the tree-tops waning slowly^ 

Night bereft of summer charms — 

Here I fain would rest ; 
Here would lie and sadly ponder. 
Dream, and dreaming often wander 

From the world's wild harsh alarms — 

From worldly thought unblest. 

Ah, what pleasure find I dreaming, 
When the dying sunset's gleaming 

Through the branches just above me. 

Colored them in rosy light ! 
All around the zephyrs breathing. 
Soft and lowly, soul enwreathing. 

Seeming in sweet intent to love me, 

Stirring longings into flight. 

26 



And while gathering gloam was creeping, 
Thus I pondered, memories leaping 

Into being, of my dear one. 

Blessed in God's eternity. 
Thus I dreamt, while time was flying. 
Wishing that the day was nighing 

When my soul could pass the Drear One 

Into its fraternity. 
I •■'■' 

Thinking what I would not utter, 
Suddenly there came a flutter — 

Flutter as of dainty winging ; 

Curious, then, I raised my eyes. 
Pure as snow and gleaming whitely 
Came a bird that settled lightly — 

Settled on a branch, and singing. 

Greeted me in wondrous wise. 

Ah, thou creature, small and saintly. 
Now thy song subsideth faintly. 

Hast thou lost thy winged brothers 

In their southern flight? 
Have they all flown on without thee. 
Left thee lone — I cannot doubt thee. 

To a fate such as another's^ 

Biding in thy sight? 



n 



But in answer to my query 

Flew the bird, and flew quite near me, 

Flew undaunted to alight 

Nearer and still nearer by. 
What wouldst seek, thou little stranger? 
Wouldst thou food, thou winged ranger, 

To resume thy lonesome flight? 

Then it whispered, "I— 'tis I!" 

Then perhaps some cruel prison 
With cold wired wall arisen 

As the duties of my being. 

Held thee once some human nigh. 
Is this why thou are so daring. 
Coming nearer still, ne'er fearing 

That I too may stay thy fleeing? 

But it whispered "I— 'tis I!" 

Strange this bird, and stranger still 
All its calm and whispered thrill. 

Had I heard aright or dreamed it — 
That it murmured, "I — 'tis I !" 
Suddenly my heart beat faster. 
Vainly though I strove to master 
All its violent trembling ; seemed it 
In a maddened maze to fly. 



28 



And the mind with heart in keeping 
Roused as if from deeply sleeping — 

Full awoke and heard the whisper, 

Heard the bird sing, "I— 'tis I!" 
Then, thought I, perhaps God sent thee, 
To my saddened heart hath lent thee 

Just to cheer me, heavenly lisper. 

Then it caroled, "I— 'tis I!" 

Ah, thou messenger from heaven. 
Thou ethereal mystic leaven. 

From the realm of song and story. 

Whisper words of ecstasy; 
Tell me in thy warblings purely. 
For thou knowest, knowest surely, 

Does she live above in glory. 

Waiting, still awaiting me? 

Silent then the creature fluttered. 

Fluttered, while no sound I uttered. 
Nearer still until it vanished. 
Vanished as the morning dew; 

And within my heart a burning 

Reassured my soul returning, 

That had seemed a moment banished, 
As it lived a while and knew. 

29 



Then 'twas night, and high and glowing 
Sailed the moon, her bright beams flowing. 
Rising from a bed of mosses, 
Back to friends with happy sigh, 
Sped I then ; but none shall know me 
While within my heart I stow me. 

Her whose words have raised my crosses 
With her whispered, "I — 'tis I !" 



30 



THE ROSE. 

Soft, soft, she wooes the kissing sun, 
Breathes perfume on the day begun ; 
The night will steal her soul away — 
She dies to love, just this one day. 



31 



TO MY PIPE. 

Farewell^ dear friend, of the sweet past. 
Lie there aside, my sweetest tempter still, 

And though we parted with one Ungering draft, 
Thou'lt ever stimulate my fancy's will. 

Tlie sight of thee will bring me back to days 
That seemed a part of youth's gilt hopeful 
dream, 
When from thy bluish clouds my kingly castle 
reared. 
And throne and sceptre, rare with jeweled 
gleam. 

Then lived I midst the stars and sun and moon — 
Aye, at the gate of the ethereal sky. 

And felt and knew the language of it all. 
And solved the secret cause of why men die. 

Fd lived among the many songsters gay, 
And sung with them at early gray lit mom, 

Then laid my sobbing, melancholy self 

Mid dying roseleaves some fair form had womi. 



I've lived a god in gardens still unknown, 
Where song and music trembled on each 
breeze. 
Have ridden upon the wild tempestuous gale 
That stript the crimson from young autumn's 
trees. 

And now the flush and glitter of my dream is o'er, 
As if thou were the priest of all my joy ; 

And yet I know thou' It give it all again to me 
Without a taint of all the world's alloy. 



8S 



THE PHANTOM SHIP. 

They say there sails a ship at night 

O'er the ocean's briny crest, 
Now here, now there, like stealthy ghost 

That cannot find its rest. 

A shadowy mist surrounds her sides 
And 'round her snow-white hull 

The naiads of the watery deep 
Chant strains of a requiem lull. 

Her stately masts rear high in air 

Above her sombre deck; 
And never a mortal pilot guides 

The helm of this spirit wreck. 

And from her funnels not a cloud 

Of smoke is ever seen ; 
And from her frowning guns no sound 

Disturbs the spectral scene. 

She steals upon the lookout watch 

Of each unfriendly ship, 
Like an ill-omen of the deep, 

Across her bows to slip. 



34 



And then before she fades away 

Like a vision of the night, 
Six hundred flames illume her hull, 

And her watch in livid light. 

They say that all those ghostly lights 

Are spirit sailors' eyes, 
Which watch intent and silent pray 

For the colors that she flies. 

Thus, on the wings of the spirit wind, 
Some port she seeks in vain ; 

She makes no sign, no call replies, 
This phantom ship, the Maine. 



35 



SHIPMATES. 

Shipmates long? Why Bill 'n' me 

Has sailed on ev'ry roUin' sea 

As touches land! 

You'll understand 

That hain't er bloomin' year or two ; 

It's years on years in many a crew 

That Bill 'n' me, was shipmates ! 

A j'^e lad ! m' hair is turnin' gray 

'N' so's Bill's the same old way ; 

He's down below 

Ez white ez snow 

This many a day — I thought yo' knew, 

But then yo' fellers all was due 

Since Bill 'n' me, is shipmates ! 

We've weathered many a rippin' gale 

'N' always turned up bright 'n' hale 

To hum 'n' port 

O' this sem sort, 

Fer land were ne'er fit place fer us 

With lubbers full o' trim 'n' fuss, 

While Bill 'n' me, is shipmates ! 



36 



Wrecked of 'en? Wall it 'pears ter me 

Jest once — an' when the Bonny Lee — 

A gallant ship — 

Give us th' slip, 

'N' every boy, 'cept me 'n' Bill 

Went down 'n' left us out th' spill ; 

But Bill 'n' me, was shipmates ! 

That's nigh some twenty years ago, 

Right in the paw of a norther blow, 

In a howlin' swell — 

Bill stood me well, 

A'holdin' me high, while I cudn't win 

A hand-holt, till they tuck us in, 

Fer Bill 'n' me, was shipmates. 

I'll do th' sem by Bill some say, 

Ef thing's 'n'd ever come that way; 

But lose er win. 

Me 'tin's his tin, 

'N' pipe 'n' bunk is tallied one 

Till the "old man" says our days is done, 

Fer Bill 'n' me, is shipmates ! 



37 



HOPE. 

The sun has cast its last soft ray 
Across the meadow and the woodland green, 
Where you and I have whiled dear hours away, 
'Mid Nature's silence charming every scene. 

The oriole, the thrush, the robin red, 
Have sung, anon, their last sweet mellow tones ; 
The murmur of the brook, that happy sped 
Thro' yonder vale, dies to low longing moans. 

But, thro' the silence of it all, one word. 
One word re-echoes from the dale and slope ; 
'Tis neither song of happy brook nor bird; 
'Tis God's sweet comfort, whisp'ring softly, 
Hope! 



CONSTANCY. 

Command the stars to hide their hght, 

The sun to shine no more ; 
And bid the clouds to cease their flight, 

The sea to leave its shore. 
The pale, pearl moon to dim its glow. 

The night to drown the day, 
And check a river's downward flow, 

Tell brooks to stop their play ; 
Say that the leaves retain their hue, 

The flower become a weed ; 
Demand the dead rose bloom anew 

In snowbound, icy mead; 
Then, as all this shall granted be, 

My love shall die for thee. 



39 



CONSOLATION. 

What tho' life be one dreamy sleep, 
Of meetings and of partings, falling o'er 
My lowly heart, the silence bids me weep, 
Lest speaking, I should see thee, love, no more. 

What if my longing robs me of each smile. 
That oft has pleased thee to a happy mood, 
And left thy restless bosom free from guile. 
As zephyrs calm the sunlit, stilly, wood.^ 

What if my dearest wishes come to naught. 
And all the world assume an empty air? 
The true God will not steal away sweet thought 
That brings thee back, as ever, young and fair. 

And the heavenly orbs shall shine fore'er the 

same 
For you and me, while mortal life shall last ; 
And music whisper, spirit-like, a name 
That leads us back to scenes that long have 

passed. 



40 



VICTORY. 

Aye, hush the thund'rous battle roar 

And silence ev'ry gun; 
Ensheath the dripping saber blade, 

Their bloody work is done! 

Let vesper breezes from the shore, 
Where smold'ring ruins lie. 

Still, with each balmy gust, the pain, 
The last, for them that die! 

And let the tides of peaceful seas 
Wash out the crimson stain. 

Where human blood has dyed the wave 
And leave it blue again! 

Haul down the flaring bunting squares 
That mark the battle cry, 

And from the highest peak and spar 
Old Glory float on high ! 

For kingdoms know and monarchs fear 

Our emblem Liberty, 
Resplendent with this holy sign, 

God loves a people free! 



41 



A MOTHER'S PRAYER. 

One night, my son, long, long ago, 

I knelt beside your bed. 
And watched the fever come and go 

That flushed your baby head. 

There was not a friend to cheer me, 

But the winds that sighed soft and low, 

And it seemed they said, "We'll take thee 
In the shroud of our nightly blow." 

Ah, son, you'll never know the pain 
That wrung my anguished heart. 

Telling my earthly wish was vain, 
And we indeed must part. 

How oft I sobbing kissed you, child. 

The while the hot tears fell. 
Recalling the moments when last you smiled, 

And Mama's boy was well. 



A CHILD'S IDEA OF HEAVEN. 

Papa, dear, I'd like to know 
When people die, where do they go? 
I know you'll think me very bad 
And that you'll feel so very sad 
Because Mama has gone away 
To where God's little angels pray. 

But tell me, Papa dear, how far 
Those lovely, shiny houses are ; 
Of all the flowers that grow there, 
Sweet music sounding everywhere ; 
Of all the fairies glittering. 
That flit about on gauzy wing. 

Of the dolls that can say most anything. 
Whenever you care to pull the string ; 
Of the birds that sing a tuneful song. 
All the day and the night long ; 
And the great kind dogs that bark and play. 
Won't bite or ever run away. 



And hov/ does the sun look up there, dear, 
Because he must be very near. 
And where do all the tear diamonds go 
When the fairies weep just to see them flow. 
Who sews all their gold-spangled dresses, 
And curls up their silvery tresses? 

Who puts on their wings so that they can fly, 

All through the blue of the beautiful sky? 

And where do the angels fly to all day, 

So that I can't see them when I am at play? 

I often try to wake from my sleep 

Just to surprise them and get a sly peep. 



44 



THE RADICALIST. 

Man has usurped the hearth of man 
And robbed him of whate'er he can. 
And sordid hovers more to ask 
While human pity wears a mask 
To chill God's light in which we bask — 
Yet I wear my hat as I will. 

That one may live a thousand men must die, 
'Tis theirs to bear and droop, not to reply. 
While o'er the silent battle of it all 
Wealth lets the ever-ready curtain fall — 
'Tis hard to let its pageant pass. 
But harder to be of its class — 
So I wear my hat as I will. 

We feel the day's knock on our door. 

The devil-finger of the poor — 

The gilded poor, that cry and die alone. 

No soul responsive to the groan. 

The Godless future theirs to meet 

That cooling heart seals to complete. 

While I wear my hat as I will. 



45 



THE PRODIGY. 

I know some heavenly fairy 

Has touched your sunny head, 

And crowned you with the laurel 
Of them, to music wed. 

For all your thoughts and fancies 
Are gifted with the song 

Of Nature's sweetest language 
That vibrates all day long. 

And that the stars in heaven 
And the «un that shines by day 

Have whispered words in song to you 
That would not pass away. 

And with this mystic music. 
So taught by day and night, 

You make the dead heart glad again, 
And lead us toward God's light ! 

To Little li. B. S. 



46 



TO NANSEN. 

Hail thou attribute to science ! 
Hail, thou king of bold defiance ! 
Loud with song and hearty cheer 
Let us greet thee, valiant peer; 
Let us grasp thy noble hand, 
Lead thee honored through our land ; 
Let us show the love we feel, 
Love that none can well conceal. 

Noble son of Norway old. 
Bravest of the brave and bold, 
Thou hast faced the piercing gales 
Of the far North's icy vales. 
Thou hast cheered the train's brave crew 
With a heart most sterling true, 
When faint hope and dire distress 
Filled the ice-bound wilderness. 

There are no words that would describe 
The comforts thou hast self denied; 
And when thy noble ship and all 
Was hi^rd wedged in an icy wall, 
With naught in sight but certain death — 
Death in the Polar, barren breath — 
There still remained an homage dear 
Within thy breast, oh noble peer! 

47 



There came a time when science called — 
When progress ended, and ice-stalled 
Thy good ship could no farther go ; 
Then didst thou call thy men below 
And choose one man of her staunch crew 
To face still greater odds with you. 

Too well we know that stout hearts bled. 
And eyes were full of tears unshed. 
With sled and dogs o'er crusted snow, 
You led the journey of which we know — 
Undaunted and o'er hopeful still, 
With ardent soul and iron will 
Didst grope thy perilous way along 
Through the sleet wind's uncanny song. 

And thus didst struggle to obtain 

A foothold on the Polar main; 

And thus didst crown for Norway's fame 

A latitude that bears the name. 

Of thee, illustrious Arctic King! 

And after fearful trial didst bring 

In person safe and all th}^ well met crew, 

The gladsome of ways discovered new. 



48 



THE GRAVE OF CAESAR. 

0, Rome ! thou crumbled chaos of the earth. 

Where He the purpled cloak of chiefs 

We ne'er have seen? Where thy splendor's 

girth, 
And Caesar's crowned with gemmed laurel leaves? 

Where, in this desert, once the poets sang 
In silver flow of Virgil and the rest. 
And tenderly from many fair throats rang 
Thy praise, from Tiber's vale to Sabine crest? 

Where all the marbled archives of thy fame. 

Bearing fresh fissures of the name 

Of Pompey and Agrippa's strength 

That led your eagles o'er Europa's length? 

Where all thy temples and the tombs 

Of the World's nucleus ? Where the catacombs 

Of loyal heroes that have bled 

For thy past glory, now so lowly dead ? 

Where the sepulchre of Julius, great. 
His godlike sacred dust and grave; 
The songs, the cithern of his kingly state. 
That conquered lords and freed the slave? 

49 



Has Brutus, with one traitorous thrust, 
Given them up to die and rust 
As blood-stained dirk, and leave but poppy bed 
To mark the spot where noble Caesar bled? 

O, cruel fate ! that such must die — 
Life-long supreme — to rot and lie 
In mound so poor, so piteously made 
Bemourned by flow'rs that weep a moment and 
must fade. 

Has time and war obliterated all? 

That, mighty Caesar thou shouldst fall 

So unbewailed — so unknown deep 

Without an urn to designate thy place of sleep? 

Pax tecum ! Caesar — ^kingly sire ! 

I kiss the flow'rs that fain would mark 

Thy shifting tomb ; there is in them at least the 

fire 
Of bleeding pity — and then embark 
For kinder home, than thy ungrateful Rome! 



50 



SOUTH LAKE. 

High in the piny hill 

Thy sleeping waters lie, 

Waiting for ages still 
To live and die. 

Naught but the aging tree 

Knows of thy past, 
Bending on tottering knee. 

Sighing its last. 

Ages thus had thou slept 

From year to year ; 
No brook nor rivulet 

Meets thee to cheer. 

Naught but a changing sky 
Has touched thy face, 

Heard every mourning sigh — 
Sighed with sweet grace. 

Naught but the fiery sun 
Has kissed thy tears; 

With each day begun 
Calmed all thy fears. 



51 



Oft have thy waters pined 

For other lands, 
But could no outlet find — 

Chained are thy hands. 

Far, far below, the sound 

Of bleating herds 
Tells of some other mound 

The vale engirds. 

Erewhile a visitor 

In summer came 
To glide thy waters o'er 

And praise thy name. 

With rod and reel they come^ 

Laughing and gay, 
Going when day is done, 

Singing the way. 

Then Winter's icy gales 
Freezes o'er thy main. 

Grasping thee unawares. 
Struggling in vain. 



52 



Mutely thy piney friends 

Bending quite low. 
Take on the change it lends — 

Their mantles of snow. 

Then all the song and thrill 

Sudden abate. 
All lies serenely still 

Spring to await. 

Barred are the paths that lead 

To thy chilled shore ; 
Barred from the world indeed 

All Winter o'er. 



Ages thus hast thou slept. 

Ages wilt sleep; 
Thousands of tears hast wept, 

Yet more wilt thou weep. 

Till God's almighty hand 

Will shatter thy bed, 
And rushing down o'er the land 

Some ocean thou'lt wed. 

Written on a visit to South Lake in the Catshill 

Mountains, August, 1897. 

53 



THE DELAWARE FROM BARRYVILLE 
BLUFF. 

Far, far below this aged precipice, 
An elemental rock of granite gray, 
Whose very brink a hundred red oaks kiss 
With deep-dyed leaves that beat and throb and 

play, 
A hashing stream runs by thy island breast. 
With note of joy and ceaseless murmuring. 
Borne on each merry ripple's snowy crest, 
The music of its woodbound peace to bring; 
And then, beyond thy shadow, solitude 
Sweeps on and on, along its rugged way 
Thwart runlet, dell and glade, through mead 

and wood. 
To let thee dream forever and a day ! 



64 



GOOD-NIGHT. 

O5 soft, the gloam comes creeping, 
Has wooed bright day to sleeping, 
At night, at night, at night. 
The dusk calls forth the starlight 
To gem the robe of dark night; 
Good-night, sweet love, good-night ! 

The maiden-moon is peeping, 

At Flora's fairies weeping; 

At night, at night, at night. 

She lists my sighs unwilling, 

And threats the heart with chilling ; 

Good-night, sweet love, good-night ! 

But thro' her mellow gleaming 
My soul, of thee, is dreaming 
At night, at night, at night. 
Until the sunbeams call me. 
The smiles that haste before thee ; 
Good-night, sweet love, good-night ! 



55 



BEAVER BROOK. 

Play on, play on, sweet babbling brook, 
I love thy song and shady nook — 
The silver bars that dart and gleam 
Prom every break in thy restless stream, 
That rushes by with happy strain 
To join the waters of the plain; 
Or, by the art of man must turn 
The mill-wheel, with a maddened churn, 
And laughingly rush on, as free — 
A tumbling, foamy, bubbling sea ; 
That meets again in calmer mood 
Thy softer self, down by yon wood. 
Where sighing songs of pines would still 
The beating rush of every thrill. 
And shed a soft glow of green light 
Over the pathway of thy flight. 



56 



SHOHOLA MILL. 

Here, in the shade of verdant hills 
Thy timeworn frame still stands, 
A cenotaph of iron-wills 
And sturdy, work-worn hands. 

Thy oaken beams, like sentinels 
Guard o'er storm-riven sides ; 
Each rough-hewn edge a story tells, 
That speaks, and speaking hides. 

Around thy stony, lower walls 
The tireless brook still runs. 
Dashed to a hundred glittering falls, 
Lit by a thousand suns. 

And thro' each crevice of decay 

A tiny rill runs free. 

That sings the same song all the day 

And fills the heart with glee. 

The great mill-wheel, alone, lies still; 
Its labor-life is o'er. 
And cool, damp moss its hollows fill — 
It never will turn more. 



5T 



O ancient frame, would thou couldst tell 
The story of thy past 
And how thy miller-master fell; 
What said he at the last? 

What faithful wife knelt by his side 
To watch him fade and die, 
As thro' the casement, open wide, 
He gazed with dimming eye? 

Was there a daughter gently fair, 
The rosebud of the land? 
Had she a lover-, debonair 
Who sued long for her hand? 

And are these crumbled graves beyond, 
Thy fields, once rich in grain? 
Doth not a tearful heart respond. 
No mourner more remain? 



58 



VESUVIUS. 

Son of Soma, undelighting 

Fiend insatiate of the earth! 
Hast forgotten all past blighting 

Of thy murderous, hellish mirth? 
Hast forgotten thou wert sleeping, 
Held a while in Morpheus' keeping? 
Forth again wouldst thou be leaping, 
Start anew unending weeping 
Of a peaceful world? 

Wouldst thou threaten the few mortals, 

That have builded on thy sides ? 
Wouldst thou ope thy fiery portals, 

Where each verdured vale abides ? 
Wouldst awake with trembling laughter. 

Hissing loud and leering low 
At the souls, thou dread engrafter. 

Helplessly within the throe 
Of thy prowess hurled? 



59 



Wilt thou ope thy ponderous jaw, 

Yell defiance at the prayer 
Of those stricken in their awe — 

Lowly bending everywhere? 
Dost not see the father's anguish, 

Oft returning to his little cot, 
Where a mother strives to vanquish 

Gathering fears that fain would blot 
All maternal hopes? 

Canst thou hear the childish whisper, 

As with dimpled hands there kneels 
Innocent and untaught lisper. 

Seeking God with soft appeals. 
That thou stay thy loathsome craving — 

Craving to eject the molten sea. 
Sea of sulph'rous mass now churning. 

Churning with an inner glee. 
Shaking all thy slopes. 

Canst agree with beauteous Nature, 

In its calm and fruitful green? 
Dost begrudge it, since thy crater 

Naught but smiles from heaven hath seen? 
Canst thou feel the sea's soft lapping. 

Cooling o'er thy heated side? 
Dost not feel perfume enwrapping 

Breezes that from far and wide 
Bear a precious freight? 
60 



Builded strong with sturdy staples, 

Flickering now with many a light, 
To the North lies dreamy Naples, 

Splendid, radiant, massive, bright. 
Canst thou see, thou demon rasping. 

That for every light a soul 
Thrives and lives, within thy grasping. 

Prays thee humbly to control 
Thy maw insatiate? 

Then list — O, list! and though thy roar 

Might o'erdrown the voice of all. 
Menace in thy rage no more. 

Lift thy threatening pall. 
Let all noble deeds suffice 

To calm thy turbulent desire. 
Retract thy flaming tongue of vice. 

That lava-licks in running fire 

Thy convulsive, craggy side. 

And if thyself canst not control. 

Thy hellish contents must unfold. 
No pity hast for life nor soul, 

Then empty from thy caldron hold 
The congruous mass of fire and flame 

Into yon open, smiling sea! 

And if this may not — cannot be. 
Then let it aye in sleep abide ! 
November Fifteenth, 1897. 

61 



WHAT OF THE DAY, DEAR LORD? 

What of the day, dear Lord, 
When the sun's last crimson rays 
Fade in the heaven's western ways, 
And gently kiss with roseate hue, 
Each flower and leaf a sad adieu — 

What of the day? 

What of the day, dear Lord, 
When gloam enchants the very air. 
Soft wooes the light of Vesper fair. 
And dew descends to calm earth o'er 
With diamonds, sparkling more and more — 

What of the day? 

What of the day, dear Lord, 
When toil is o'er and men at rest, 
Lost in a sleep with soothed breast. 
Regardless of what wakes and waits 
The opening of the morrow's gates — 

What of the day? 



62 



ACCIDENTAL DEATH. 

The sun has kindled all ambition's fire 

Within youth's house of mortal flesh and 
time; 

A future life, the all of man's desire — 
If toil were play and labor deeds sublime. 

Then sudden shoots a lance from out of space, 
A spirit demon of a darkened air ; 

The mansion falls and life's bright hopeful race 
Is ended with a shriek of wild despair. 

The soul's amazed to gather in its new born 
folds, 

To hurry from the cooling mass of clay, 
And flee from all the memories it holds, 

To live unhoused until the judgment day. 



63 



COME WALK WITH ME. 

I said to my spirit, "Come walk with me, 
Out on the beach of the moonUt sea, 
Where Naiads murmur soft and low 
To music of its restless flow. 

"Come out into the stilly night. 
Interpret me, yon stellar light, 
So far, so beautiful and fair, 
A jewel in the sky's dusk hair. 

"Come let us walk out side by side 
And hearken to the billows ride 
Down to the sands, and quick retreat. 
Leaving their salt-spray at our feet. 

"Come, walk with me, my heart is sad. 
The passing day's brought nothing glad 
To comfort me, and a gloomy strain 
Disturbs the peace of my restless brain." 

But my spirit whispered to refuse; 
"Have patience," was its apt excuse; 
"To-night wouldst dream awake, too deep, 
I'll dream with thee, but thou must sleep." 



64 



THE SONG OF THE CHRISTIANS. 

Let grief nor care obstruct thy path 
Nor mar thy faith in Me ; 
No sinner shall escape the wrath 
Of the blessed Trinity. 

When earthly wrongs shall bleed thy heart 
And crush thy righteous speech, 
Then look to Him and so depart 
To Immortal blessed peace. 

Around the throne of God alone, 
Christ waits for you and me; 
Above in God's celestial home, 
Our souls shall live with Thee. 

"Be faithful unto death," said He, 
"And I shall give thee light; 
Oh, bear thy cross with constancy 
Through the darkness of your night." 



65 



SUMMA OSCULUM. 

With existence begun and nearing 
Completion, — its days endearing, 
One lingering, loving kiss, 
Has colored life with bliss. 

Then God's death-angels slowly, 
From ethereal space and holy. 
Bear from its shell terrene. 
The soul, with kiss unseen. 



66 



MAGNUS DEUS. 

Great God, who swingst Thy hghts afar, 

Within the streets of nightly heaven 

What mean these symbols in the sky, 

The evening breeze, the screeching storm, 

The fiery sun, the twilight's tinge, 

The flash of light from Thine angered eye — 

Whom dost address in thund'rous roar. 

Whom gladden with the sun? 

Where shall we look for Thee, O God Supreme, 

How shall we look for Thee, O King Divine? 

Where shall my weary heart and soul 

Meet Thee, O Master-Father mine? 



67 



THE DAY OMNIPOTENT. 

Out of the vast expanse of heaven's ceaseless 

light, 
Comes forth a silent hand to earth below; 
Sweeps o'er the mountain's highest pinioned 

height 
And lurid tints each silver cap of snow. 

And sturdy oaks that never swerved aside, 
Bend low in awe each raking, leafy peak, 
As 'twere to lend a waiting, aged ear full wide, 
And list a mighty, supreme sovereign speak. 

And down the chasms of earth's solemn, stony 

reeds, 
A voice resounds, a mystic, wordless song divine. 
That awes and stills each breathing thing's last 

needs. 
With those long dead, to whisper and combine. 



68 



And all is flooded crimson! All is free! 
The cry of Nature hushed into one dying prayer, 
One grand Amen — Earth's latest hopeful plea 
To live anew, a nucleus, far fairer than 'twas 
fair. 

Softly, slowly creeps God's arm around this 
breast 

Whereon sweet Nature suck'st a gracious, nurs- 
ing teat ; 

And cooling, dying, sinks into eternal rest; 

A jewel of what was, a star for other stars to 
greet. 



69 



MYSTIC DEATH. 

Angel of Darkness, where rests thy throne, 

Where the portals of thy covert lone? 

Thou awful paradox of human kind, 

Treading a spirit thin, ethereal wind; 

Softly on all-seasoned wing. 

Never with a timely ring, 

Always floating and hovering near. 

Clad in your armor, unborn to fear. 

Floating o'er palace and humble home. 

Now ceasing, now soothing life's ending moan, 

Stealing so silently our loves away. 

Just for the promise of a brighter day — 

Just for the hope of eternal bliss. 

Renewal of love's immortal kiss. 

Where live our souls in the mystic gloam, 

O Angel of Death, where lies thy home.'^ 



70 



THE BLACK MAN'S BURDEN. 

Take up the black man's burden, 

Nor wait for other years 
To rend the cloud of darkness 

And dry a wretch's tears. 
The earth is but a single bed 

Wherein all men must lie; 
The yeoman or the monarch's state 

Is lost to them that die. 

Take up the black man's burden, 

'Tis but a Christian's deed 
To nurse the lightless flower. 

Of which God sowed the seed. 
The chance of birth is not a crime — 

Who has the right of choice.'^ 
The power that gave us human shape 

Bids all alike rejoice. 

Take up the black man's burden, 

Nor think to teach with shot and shell 
The laws he fails to fathom — 

'Tis but a roaring way to hell. 
Far better let him see the light. 

The moral of what was and is. 
In truth, in justice, strong but kind, 

And let God's right of life be his. 
71 



WHEN LAST OF ALL. 

When last of all, an echo of a Supreme voice 
Shall mark omnipotent the latter day, 
And in its mighty glory melt away. 
The last dust atom of this world so choice^ — 
Where then the place, amidst the vortex whirl 
of souls set free, 
Into that mystic space to mortal man un- 
known, 
The all of him, who plucked love's flower his 
own. 
When sister gardened roses cried "Nay, look 

and flee!" 
Shall Master, Judge austere then cast him down 
Into a hell of taloned monsters, whose insatiate 

greed 
Make them eternal vultures of satanic power, 
That knows not pity, heeds not plea nor frown? 
Or shall the God who gave that once sweet 

hour. 
In sympathy forgive and let stuch lover- 
souls be freed? 



72 



WHEN I LOAF. 

When the Autumn fields lie in repose, 

The last crop stored away. 
And the loft perfumed as with the rose, 

With the season's gathered hay, 
The old home sheds its spell of care 

With time-worn hymn and story ; 
But my restless heart yearns for the air . 

Of the woodland's silent glory. 
And I loaf. 

When the busy life has bought a place 

With its girth of wealth's fine splendor, 
And history's page begs to embrace 

Past strife in phrases tender, 
And friendship's flame surprising glows 

With smile and cheer at ev'ry turn. 
Then mem'ry's love within me blows 

For vale and field and stilly wood and burn, 
Then I loaf. 



73 



NIAGARA. 

I see thee, verdure trimmed 

Thy breast with grandeur rimmed 

Drawing the waking brook 

From ev'ry shady nook, 

To form thy bridal veil 

And gem its silver trail. 

Whom wouldst thou woo? 

I hear thy thunderous song, 
Sounding the whole day long; 
Wondrous seductive lay, 
To honor in festive way 
The gladsome, hymeneal day. 
But whom wouldst thou woo, I pray. 
Whom wouldst thou woo.'^ 



74 



DESPAIR. 

I wandered far into the valley of the night, 
And dreamed its dreariness 'twere all mine 
own; 
There to receive no sunshine, nor any earthly 

light, 

The thought of Love's belatement were un- 
known. 

What need of light of love, of life henceforth? 

'Twere but the attributes of day's futurity; 
No fountain there to pour anew, no star of north 

To guide the mind into the time to be. 

The darkness were my blanket and my shroud. 
To cover o'er the sleep of lingering rest. 

And calm desire, that knocked for long and loud 
'Pon portals of my throbbing, restless breast. 

O wake me not, thou sweetest star of eastern 
glow ! 
Yet, be the grave the Fates have dug me deep ; 
Keep out the radiance that from thine eyes 
would flow. 
Nor in this gloom awake me — ^let me sleep. 



75 



For thou wouldst lead me to the brighter sky, 
A heaven that would rob me of my deadened 
soul. 
That suifering knows no pity, only sigh for 
sigh; 
Forged links that chain my hungry heart to 
goal. 



76 



CAPTAIN TOMMY. 

I'm sure you've all heard of Tommy, 
The captain courageous and bold; 

But if you haven't, I'll tell you. 
For it's time you all had been told. 

Now Tom was as a brave a young sailor 
As ever sailed on the blue sea ; 

For he was the crew and the captain 

Of the good ship named the "Ho-gee." 

The "Ho-gee" was the funniest vessel. 
Without either a mast or a sail. 

And only a rudder to guide her, 
That never was yet known to fail. 

Two little words were his orders, 

For Tommy could hardly say more; 

And these simply the words "Ho," "Gee," 
As fixed by the distance from shore. 

Now the "Ho-gee" was only a long board- 
The best that Tommy could find; 

And his Papa did all of the steering. 
Holding on, and swimming behind. 

77 



So if Tommy longed for a boat ride, 
He simply cried bravely one "Gee!" 

And his ship glided out on the water 
As gentle and straight as could be. 

And when he'd sailed quite a distance, 
And the shore seemed far out of reach. 

Our Tommy need only cry "Ho!" once 
And his boat would turn back to the beach. 



And so are alTof us saiHng 

Upon the sea known as "Strife" ; 

While God does all the steering 

Of the ship that men have named "Life.' 

He guides our ship thro' the fierce gale 
With a care complete in its love, 

Until it becomes aged and broken 
And fades in the sky-sea above. 



78 



SYMPATHY FOR THE MOON- 

Say, Dad, I've watched for many a night 
The yellow glow of the old man's light. 
Who lives in the moon, in a shanty old. 
All by himself, so I was told. 

I've peeped thro' the curtain 'n' a hole in the 

shade. 
And saw his light grow dull and fade, 
Night after night, until last night 
There wasn't a sign of it in sight. 

I know 'twas wrong to lie awake 

Till nursey slept, and then to take 

A little peep; 'twas just to know 

If he was home 'n' then, to sleep I'd go. 

And when his lamp grew low and dim, 
Say, Dad, I kind o' pitied him; 
I know he's lonely — ^maybe sick — 
So that he could not trim the wick. 



79 



So, Dad, I wish j^ou'd take the cents 
You'll find in the pockets of my new pants, 
Hangin' in the closet, and send them him 
''With compliments of Kttle Jim." 

And say, "Just now I'm very poor, 
But in a week I']l send him more. 
Until his lamp burns bright, to tell 
He's up and feeling very well !" 



80 



MAMA'S LULLABY. 

O hushaby, rockaby, wee baby wee, 
And close your little blue eyes ; 

The sand-man is coming from over the sea 
To still all your fears and your sighs. 

Refrain. 

So hushaby, rockaby, wee baby wee, 

The moon-man is peeping 

To see if you're sleeping. 
And good to your Papa and me. 

O hushaby, rockaby, wee babj'^ wee. 
Your cheek is so rosy and warm; 

Nestled so closely upon Mama's knee. 
Safe cuddled in Mama's strong arm. 

Refrain. 

O hushaby, rockaby, wee baby wee. 

While Mama sings low to you, dear, 
And kisses your pink, little lips warily. 

As the slumber-land angels draw near. 



81 



WUD'S THE GOOD OF A BABY? 

Wud's the good of a baby, 
Wud's alwuz tryin' how to talk — 
Kin on'y crawl 'n' never walk ; 
'N' stick his fingers in his eye 
'N' holler's ef he's goin' to die ; 

Wud's the good of a baby? 

Wud's the good of a baby, 
'S is alwuz gettin' eb'ry t'ing 
Wud Papa 'tended me ter bring ; 
'N' I gits nufBn 'till he's done, 
Den on'y just a tiny some ; 

Wud's the good of a baby? 

Wud's the good of a baby, 
Wud wudn't play at enny game, 
'N' duzn't know his brudder's name; 
'Cept to break a feller's toys, 
Wud's sure to 'long to udder boys; 

Wud's the good of a baby? 

Wud's the good of a baby, 
Ez put a hole in my new drum, 
'N' make out he's my bestest chum? 
So sure ez the stork comes 'round again 
I'll keep him shut out in the rain; 

For wud's the good of a baby? 
82 



THE SUN. 

Oh, please do tell me. Daddy dear, 

About that great big light 
That shines each day, from year to year 

And hides away at night. 

I love its warm and rosy face 
That peeps at me each morn, 

Because it smiles in every place 
Its warm, gold rays adorn. 

But in the evening. Daddy dear, 

I love it best of all ; 
It looks so puffed, so very queer. 

Just like a fiery ball! 

And oh! how lonely it must be. 

Without one single star! 
And couldn't you tell it just for me 

How I love it from afar.'* 

And where does it go to, Daddy dear, 
When I've said my prayers, and sleep? 

Do angels take it. Daddy dear. 
To play "go hide and seek"? 



EF ON'Y I WUZ A BOY ! 

Ef on'y I WUZ a boy, 

I wud have the mostest fun^ 

'N' whistle, 'n' holler, 'n' fight, 'n' run, 

Jus' like a boy 's orf ul bad ; 

'Stead like gurls 's alwuz sad. 

Ef on'y I WUZ a boy ! 

Ef on'y I WUZ a boy, 
I wud have a watch what really goes, 
'N' wear a nice, blue suit o' clo'es, 
Wid pants, so I cud slide the stairs ; 
'N' not like skirts^ wud alwuz tears, 
Ef on'y I WUZ a boy ! 

Ef on'y I WUZ a boy, 

I cud play liooky, 'n' go 'n' fish, 

'N' wudn't mind the teacher's swish. 

Like girls, what cries fur a lickin*, 

/ wud never do no kickin' 

Ef on'y I WUZ a boy. 



84 



WHEN SANTA CLAUS USED T' WUZ. 

Pse just so tired o' livin', 

So sure as m' name is Sue; 

'N wisht I WUZ a rag doll, 

What's alluz good t' you. 

For Fse alius cross and 'plainin% 

'N' getting wuz, 'n' wuz, 

'Cause nothin' seems so nice t' me 

Ez when Santa Claus used t' wuz. 

I'se got no mamma, 'n' you see 

She's gone away to stay, 

Up in the sky where the angels is, 

What sing t' her 'n' play. 

'N' I'se so lonely all the time, 

'N' cause a lot o' fuss 

A wishin' fer the lovely days, 

When Santa Claus used t' wuz. 

Oh I wisht I wuz a little bird, 
So's I c'ud fly away. 
See all th' happy little girls 
'N' watch them in their play, 
'N' sing to all the tired ones, 
Ez how th' robin does, 
'N' tell 'em how I miss th' time 
When Santa Claus used t' wuz. 
85 



'N' mebbe they 'uld ketch 'n' pet me, 

Wid httle baby ban's ; 

So orful 'fraid to hurt th' bird 

What's come from far-away lan's. 

'N' mebbe they 'uld kiss 'n' hug me, 

Ez m' little heart 'uld beat, cuz 

They 'uld make me think I wuz back again, 

Where Santa Claus used t' wuz. 



86 



WIBBY, DIDDY, AND DOO. 

Diddy was a dolly fair. 
With china head and real brown hair. 
And glassy eyes that never wept 
When Wibby went upstairs and slept. 

Diddy, really, never was proud 
Although she cried "Mama" quite loud 
And had a lot of fancy dresses. 
And ribbons, too, for her long tresses. 

Wibby loved Diddy ever so dear, 
So Diddy really never did fear 
That some day Wibby might go away 
And get some other dolly to play. 

But Wibby and Diddy went walking one day; 
Wibby was happy, and Diddy was gay 
Till Wibby spied a little dog Doo, 
That winked sharp at Diddy, and only said 
"Boo !" 

Poor Diddy nearly died of the fright 
And cried loud and long with all of her might. 
But Wibby was deaf, and only loved Doo, 
The black and white doggie, that said only 
"Boo!" 

87 



THE SCISSORS. 

Snippy, snappy, snorum; 
Sings the scissors all the day. 
Cutting each thing in its way. 
Mind your fingers little boy ; 
The scissors is no harmless toy. 
Snippy, snappy, snorum. 



88 

LofC. 



DOST KNOW, DEAR HEART. 

Dost know, dear heart, 
My life is one wild dream, 
Of impulse, inspiration, pain. 
And love and joy and sorrow; 
That comes to go, and come again 
To-day, just now, to-morrow? 



89 



JAN 21 1903 



